


There's a Hole in my Soul

by bokutoes



Series: Complete Me [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Oikawa is mentioned, YamaYachi incuded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 11:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6049450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokutoes/pseuds/bokutoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In his dreams there are shadows of things that are awfully familiar to him. It was as if he were viewing things from an old television. The screen was filled with static, and often the image crackled with old age. But there was warmth. There was a strange feeling of love spilling his chest as the silhouette smiled at him—or whenever the silhouette gave him a hug or held his hands.</p><p>He often woke up in the middle of the night with tears in his eyes as he searched for something that was not there. Kei knows there was something missing in his life—someone important.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Sequel to The Things We Lost in the Fire</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	There's a Hole in my Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly beta'd. I couldn't leave _The Things We Lost in the Fire_ as is so I gave it a second part. I hope this is worth your tears. You can read this without prior knowledge of the first part. Also, just an explanation: Kuroo is a photographer for _Style!_

1.  
There’s a strange feeling within his chest. Tsukishima Kei associated it with the word hollow but there’s more depth to it. There’s a hint of longing—so was the slightest hint of sadness and a craving for affection. He identified this feeling as something that made him melancholic. He looked at certain things and a part of him lurches—it was as if they reminded him of something he didn’t understand. There was a hitch in chest at the sight of black alley cats. His eyes lingered too long on fashion magazines called _Style!_ During the evenings, he always half-expected that someone would walk in and his heart would have dipped in disappointment when no one came.

What was he missing?

 

2.  
“Yamaguchi, I feel like I falling apart.” He says honesty over a cup of coffee. He had dropped by the café his best friend owned. They often served him a cup of coffee and a slice of strawberry shortcake or whatever strawberry cake they had for the day. It was the only place where he could usually find solace. However, today it just made him jittery. He only held his half empty cup of coffee in his hands as he absorbed the heat. He only ate the strawberry on top of his shortcake instead of savoring it like he usually does. He took a sip of his hot chocolate. It had gone cold.

“What makes you say that, Tsukki?”His freckled friend asked as he pulled a chair to sit across Tsukishima on the counter. It was in the early afternoon and business was slow—it would pick up when the evening rush hour was going to start. “May I have some of your cake?”

Kei nudged his plate closer to Tadashi as an invitation. “I felt like I’ve been split in half. I feel like a part of me has been locked away somewhere.” He stated. He thumbed the porcelain of the mug he held. “I’m missing something I don’t understand.” He admitted. He looked up and he saw that Tadashi was looking at him with worry and a mix of sadness.

Tadashi reached over and squeezed his hand. “I know, Kei. I know.”

 

3.  
In his dreams there are shadows of things that are awfully familiar to him. It was as if he were viewing things from an old television. The screen was filled with static, and often the image crackled with old age. But there was warmth. There was a strange feeling of love spilling his chest as the silhouette smiled at him—or whenever the silhouette gave him a hug or held his hands.

He often woke up in the middle of the night with tears in his eyes as he searched for something that was not there. Kei knows there was something missing in his life—someone important.

And it made him feel sad.

 

4.  
Tsukishima Kei liked to think he was intelligent. Everyone was convinced he was—he studied chemistry and he worked in the field. He used to be in the college prep class back in high school and he was smart enough to have been a dean’s lister. He answered logic riddles without fail, and often people feared getting into an argument with him as it was clear Tsukishima Kei often had the upper hand when it came to these topics. He was snarky, he was witty. He was downright insulting and most people thought that he had his life completely figured out.

No, he did not.

Tsukishima Kei found himself standing in a book café on a rainy Friday evening. He stood in front of a shelf filled with magazines—his hands gently thumbed the covers as he read their titles and admired their design. He was never a man for fashion magazines. He often chose his periodicals, such as _Reader’s Digest_ or other journals that were more text and less images. But a as he thumbed over the cover of _Style!_ A certain fondness seized his heart as his eyes narrowed and the slightest smiles had graced his features.

He doesn’t understand.

 

5.  
“Oh, Kei! I didn’t think you’d go to places like this!”

He looked up to see Yamaguchi Hitoka coming up to him within the book café. He had picked up a few volumes of _Style!_ and he had ordered a cookies and cream espresso for himself. It was another thing he questioned about himself as he usually did not like coffee—but there was something about it that told him to take it. “It’s useless to wait for a bus, Hitoka. The lines are too long and I don’t think an empty one would come around until anther few hours.” He told her as she pulled a seat back and sat across him. It looked like she had just finished a hard day at her publication job.

“Ah, yeah. That happens a lot.”

“Do you usually frequent here?”

“Yes!” She beamed brightly. “During the days I can’t go to Tadashi’s café for dinner, I usually spend some time here.” She added as she nodded brightly. “They offer a variety of books to read while you drink something. I usually like ordering their milkshakes. They’re good.” Hitoka said as she got up to order. Kei is momentarily left in the presence of himself.

He leafed through the magazine and he found most of the ensembles interesting—bright colors that clashed against each other, the crisp folds of the clothes, and the sharpness of the cat eyeliner. He learned about some new things—mainly on how to dress. Kei found some of the outfits interesting. He tried to picture some of them on him and he decided that he would like to try some of them for himself. Maybe he should go shopping soon and buy some new things for himself.

“Oh! You read _Style!_ now, Kei? Since when?” Hitoka questioned him as she sipped back into the seat across him. Kei peered at her from the corner of his magazine. His eyes trailed over to the stack of _Style!_ magazines sitting in the corner. It must have been odd—he truly was one for journals and periodicals and not these things—what had sparked his sudden interest?

“I started reading them just today.” He told her. The look on Hitoka’s face was indescribable.

 

6.  
There’s an anomaly in his apartment. Tsukishima Kei had gone on a cleaning spree and he came across some questionable items—there was a note hidden between the cushions off his couch. He had picked it up out of curiosity. It was folded into a neat origami heart and Kei assume that it as there because either Hitoka or Tadashi must’ve left it behind when they were last over for Valentine’s—but something told him he had not spent Valentine’s with them for the past seven years. It was in the way his heart thumped in his chest as he stared at the neatly folded heart.

Thud, thud, thud.

_Lie. Lie. Lie._

He flipped it over gingerly and he unfolded it. He took his time as he smoothened out the crisp edges and it smelled like musk—it was pleasant to his nose and Kei was drawn to it. He folded it slowly and by the time it was an unfolded sheet in his hands, he looked at it and—

His mind screeched to a halt.

Something exploded in his chest.

Tears began to spill from his eyes for some unknown reason and he found himself falling to the floor in a crumpled heap as the sobs wracked his body. He didn’t understand—his mind could not comprehend what this note had meant. His mind could not fathom the idea that he had once been in love with someone who sounded so marvelous—someone who had actually loved him back.

 

7.  
_I love you so much, Tsukishima Kei._

 

8.  
He sat in Tadashi’s coffee shop that day, is strawberry short cake half eaten and his mug of coffee half filled. He stared at it intently and once in a while, he rolled the mug in his hands in reflective silence. He had not even realized Tadashi had pulled over a chair to sit across him by the counter—sleeves rolled up and flour dusting his cheeks and apron. But Tadashi had not said anything; he just sat together with Kei as he silently played with the fork on the platter. He only turned it around in his hand and tapped it against the porcelain of the platter.

“I found something, Tadashi.”

“What is it, Tsukki?”

“I found a folded note between my couch a week ago and something changed.” He stated.

“What changed?”

Kei fumbled for the correct words as he picked up the mug and took a long sip. He set it down. “The world changed. Something shifted and I’m beginning to…”

“Feel complete?”

Kei looked up in shock at Tadashi, but his freckled friend only smiled wryly back at him. “You’re been pretty depressed for the past three years, Tsukki. All because of your college fund. I’m glad you’re bouncing back.”

“I don’t think it’s because of my college fund.”

Tadashi’s face drained of color.

“I think someone was with me.”

 

9.  
It’s been weeks. Kei had gone about his life as usual but there was something about the folded note that made him more aware of smaller things he had missed—there were some photos of mundane things and photos of him hidden between his mattress and the bed frame. Notes were stuffed between some of his dusty old books. They were all small, and he would’ve thought most of them were insignificant little things he had left inside for himself but there’s a strange feeling in his chest. Something often swelled inside; it was the blossoming of the feeling of affection and sadness before it exploded into the profound feeling of melancholy and the thought of might have beens that crossed his mind. But the one question that continued to plague Tsukishima Kei’s mind was: _Who would’ve left these for him?_

At the end of the month, he had gathered all his little findings on his coffee table and he stared at them. There were post it notes with simple messages and aesthetic photos of books, coffee cups, horizons, and trinkets and intertwined hands as well as scarves haphazardly strewn upon his coat rack. Kei looked at every single one of them and something began to click in his mind.

An epiphany washes over him as he felt warmth explode in his chest and the hollow feeing he had been feeling for a three years now began to fade way as the feeling of completion began to sweep over his veins like a crackling fire that set his whole being a blaze with the knowledge that the piece he had been missing for a while now was his soul mate. Yet, why can’t Kei remember them at all?

 

10.  
He sat in coffee shops and often, he drank espresso. Sometimes, he drank hot chocolate. He usually took in the ambience of each and he had done his best to match the decorations with the photos of trinkets he had found scattered about his apartment. Sometimes he was successful, other times he wasn’t. But whenever he found a coffee shop that matched the images, he felt proud of himself. He’d sit with his pile of journals and he would’ve have sat for hours on end as he leafed through his papers and sipped on his espresso. Each little adventure he had went on to match the photos with the places he had been to brought him emotionally closer to the person who was missing from his life.

Kei often wondered about them and sometimes he found himself thinking: _Are they thinking of me too?_

 

11.  
Kei held up the photo. He observed it for a moment before he sipped it back into his pocket. The house before him was an exactly match; it was a pale blue house by the beach. He wandered his way from the shore to the front porch and he observed it for a moment. It felt familiar; terrifyingly so. He rounded the corner. He made his way to the back porch and he observed the windows before his eyes settled on one and a sense of familiarity washed over him. Kei made his way to the window. He placed his hands under it and he pushed.

It opened.

“Don’t worry yourself too much, Tsukki. The tenants are barely here.” He said to himself. He took a step back. Deep breath. He turned on his heel and left.

 

12.  
Kei dreams of frozen ice and sunrises—of beach sides and painted skylines. He dreams of cats and coffee shops, and rainy days spent in the company of someone else’s arms as they wasted the day away listening to music and reading in bed and eating in bed and—he dreams of soft kisses on his forehead followed by the words: _I love you, moonshine._

 

13.  
Tadashi and Hitoka looked over the collection of notes and photograph Kei had brought over from his apartment. He had ran his hands through them to spread them evenly around their coffee table and he stood. He looked over at his collection in a calculating manner. “I don’t remember taking these, and those notes are definitely not in your handwriting.” He pointed out. He sat down on the couch.

“Is there something I’m missing?” Kei asked as he looked at his best friend and is wife.

He watched as their faces paled as they exchanged nervous glances—if Kei had to name it, Hitoka would probably be the first one to break if Kei pointed out the photographs. Tadashi would probably break if he pointed out the notes. He opted to cross his arms instead and keep his silence while the two slowly broke under his gaze. They were growing restless as they tried to form excuses and form stories to explain the contradictions. However, the both of them were melting and together.

They both looked at him with their wide doe eyes and Tsukishima smirked. “Spill the beans.”

“You had your memories erased, Tsukki.”

 

14.  
There’s an open document envelope on his bed side table. The papers that were within it were scatted about his bed. Oikawa Tooru had said that he had gotten rid of the items; however he had documents about them. Kei had meticulously read through each paper and the memories came flooding back to him—the files had come with a small tape and he had placed it into his stereo. His voice had flooded in and he heard the things he had to say about Kuroo Tetsurou—the man he had chosen to forget.

His chest ached with longing and regret at the things he had done. He regretted that he had impulsively decided to forget him and he wondered then—had Tetsurou decided to forget him as well?

He went to bed that night, papers returned back into the document envelope, his voice from the tape his lullaby as he cried himself to sleep.

 

15.  
He sat by the counter in Tadashi’s bakery—just like he usually had. He ordered a milk shake this time around, and a serving of strawberry cheese cake. He savored the taste as he watched Tadashi dance around the counter as he kept up with the beverages that had to be made together with his assistant barista—a tall man with a golden heart named Asahi. Sugawara was probably working out in the back with Ennoshita as they produced the cakes that had to be served.

It was another evening rush hour and Kei felt at peace for the first time in a long while—he had bobbed his head along to the tune as he took in the rich voice of Sam Smith. He scribbled in his journal. It had been a long time since he had written anything in it. The previous pages were ripped out from when he had decided to erase Kuroo Tetsurou from his life but he was ready now—ready for what?

Perhaps he was ready to love again.

 

16.  
His journal lay open in front of him, and his cheese cake had been devoured. He was on his third serving of milk shake.

He glued the photographs he had gathered from his house and stuck them to various pages of his journal as he scribbled little notes on them—of the new memories he had formed in the time he had visited them without the company of Tetsurou. He wrote about the changes and the realizations he had. He must have sounded pretty sappy.

Then again, after he was done with this he would have stashed it away in the dusty corner at the top of his bookshelf—to remain forgotten until he discovered the journal again at a later date. He settled for the consolation prize of remembering Tetsurou fondly from what little he could remember of him. This was the price he had to pay. The ghosts in his apartment were no longer terrifying—they seemed friendlier now that he knew who they represented and he no longer felt so alone.

“Oho, those are some really nice photographs.” A voice beside him drawled out.

Kei looked up just in time to see a man with messy hair slide into the seat beside him on the counter. He had a camera bag with him and he was dressed in a fashionable manner. He was attractive—he had a square jaw and a well chiseled face—one look at his face and Kei felt the air in his lungs disappear.

“Do you usually frequent the other cafes?” The stranger asked and Kei took a quick glance at his journal before he flipped the cover close.

“I guess you could say I usually do.”

The stranger smiled at him. “Funny I’ve never seen you before. I usually frequent the ones in your photographs too. They’re my favorites.”

Kei nodded mutely as he intertwined his hands together on his lap. He looked down at the shyly.

“Do you usually frequent here? It’s my first time at this bakery so I don’t know what’s good.”

Kei looked up at the stranger. “I’m usually here.” He says without missing a beat. He had not been able to stop himself. There was a familiar feeling fluttering in his chest as warmth flooded his body. “They make good milk shakes but their hot chocolate is the best. They serve a lot of cupcakes and cakes—I usually order the strawberry cakes they serve.” He added.

The stranger regarded his words thoughtfully for a moment before he smiled. “I’ll have the same thing then.”

Kei looked away in that moment as his focus returned to his journal. He leafed through the pages before he came to the page with the snapshot of Tadashi’s signature cheesecake.

“Oh, since I’ll be talking to you tonight, I guess I should introduce myself to you then.”

Kei looked up as he eyed the stranger.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.” He introduced himself as he stuck out a hand.

Kei had not been able to control the smile that etched itself onto his face as warmth exploded within his chest. He extended his hand and accepted Tetsurou’s hand shake. He noted how warm and calloused his hands were compared to his.

“Hello, Kuroo. I’m Tsukishima Kei.”

 

17.  
A cold winter morning.

The top layer off the lake had frosted over and the coldness of the surface prickled his skin despite how bundled he was to ward off the cold. Regardless, he ignored it. There was warmth beside him as he watched the sky. He took in a deep breath and shut his eyes.

“I love you so much, Kei.”

A small smile graced his lips.

“I love you too, Tetsurou.”


End file.
